


MINECRAFT MANHUNT 3V1 GRAND FINALE REMATCH

by carbonbrine



Series: Minecraft, But JFENEMKUFNR [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Banter, Bickering, Character Study, Established Relationship, Gen, Minecraft, Minecraft Manhunt, Non-Graphic Violence, One-sided Rap Battle, Rap Battles, Video Game Mechanics, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26036839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carbonbrine/pseuds/carbonbrine
Summary: Very self explanatory—BadBoyHalo, GeorgeNotFound, and Sapnap hunt down Dream in their classic game of cat and mouse. Will Dream beat the game before they kill him!?! READ TO FIND OUT !! also, according to archive statistics only a SMALL percentage of readers comment, so if you read, make sure to COMMENT DOWN BELOW it is FREE and i will CHERISH it forever.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Minecraft, But JFENEMKUFNR [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888399
Comments: 17
Kudos: 135





	MINECRAFT MANHUNT 3V1 GRAND FINALE REMATCH

**Author's Note:**

> ok i figured that this chapter is wayyy too long to be posted with everything else, so i'm making it a separate oneshot and also posting it at a more available time

Of course, in credit to Technoblade, Dream is not necessarily subject to a God, but if they were to send him anywhere—especially hell—he’d be sure to make them hesitate upon doing so(though maybe he is even God’s favorite). And despite being afraid of horror movies and roller coasters, he sure does a good job constantly putting himself in one.

After all, horror is just a subgenre of romance, and the same can be applied the other way around.

The leaves wave to him a pitiful pettiness, grass blades threatening to latch onto his feet and his wooden sword threatens to break from the sheer force he is gripping it with.

A ravine gapes up with a smile similar to his own, and, upon spotting a patch of dirt at the bottom, he pulls out a handful of sweetberries to soften his fall at the end of his plummet. He is on a third of his health with the metallic, sweet scent of his last raw steak drooling from his mouth, wishing Minecraft seeds were edible. 

Not that they do much for him, honestly. The last of his berries are long gone.

“Where’d this…  _ pissbaby _ go,” he hears George mumble.

“George, my goodness, you muffinhead. Don’t swear,” replies a concerned Badboyhalo.

“Yeah, George,” Dream says, “Don’t swear in my video.”

George is likely rolling his eyes, “It’s not  _ swearing _ , really.”

“It is not a nice word, is all I’m saying,” Bad says.

“He won’t get demonetized, he’s fine,” scoffs George.

“That doesn’t matter!” Bad shuns, “All you guys care about is money, isn’t it?”

Sapnap chuckles, “I mean, maybe.”

“You muffins are ridiculous,” Bad sounds annoyed.

Dusting himself off—though quite frankly, Dream really shouldn’t be worrying about that— he scrambles to take out a cornflower from his inventory and crush it into dye. With gravel and sand, he takes out a crafting table and all of it is combined to make blue concrete powder. Sweat crawls down his skin as he digs out a pit and spills out the azure dust. Looking up, his eyes widen as all three name tags are charging towards the mouth of the ravine.

A gasp from Bad, “Oh, he’s probably down here.”

A shout from Sapnap, “Look, he’s right there, there’s water—go get him!”

A giggle from George, “Oh, Dream~ oh he’s so dead.”

Bad is first to leap down, followed by George, and followed by Sapnap, the little rascals all grinning in predetermined triumph. They are not wrong—it is  _ indeed _ triumph, but it is not victory in  _ their _ hands as much as it is Dream’s.

And he cannot understand why they would think otherwise.

“Wait what—” Bad shouts, falling from a place too high, “What just happened!?”

Just kidding, yes Dream can.

“Wh—” George stutters, meeting the same fate, “What  _ was _ that?!”

“Oh my God—WHAT!?” Sapnap shouts.

After all, he follows the teachings of Sun Tzu only. Watching his hunters’ bodies pixelate away, the scatter of items leaves him with a sufficient amount of wood and dirt.

“You muffin, what did you do? Are you cheating?” Bad asks.

Dream chuckles, “No?”

“Then how’d we die?”

“You… died from fall damage?” Dream says, sounding as if it were obvious.

Technically it is not a lie.

“There’s no way—I landed right in the middle of that water.”

“That... wasn’t water, Bad,” smiles Dream.

“Wh—?” George starts, “Then what was it?”

“Yeah, what was it?” Sapnap continues.

“It was uh…” Dream says, “Blue concrete powder.”

“Oh my God,” George sighs.

“Wait, then, how’d you get down?” Bad asks, “Are you  _ sure _ you’re not hacking or something? Trolling is mean, Dream.”

“There was dirt at the bottom and I had a sweet berry,” Dream answers simply.

“Yeah..? And?” Sapnap says.

“I MLG-sweetberried.”

“Wh—that’s a thing!?”

Dream stifles in a huff of amusement as he continues with the rest of his stone tools and searches for coal. Making and leaving his furnaces to simmer, the scent of beautifully browning mutton urges him to venture further into the ravine for iron. It is not very fruitful, but a flash of moss sitting idly in the cracks of cobble catches his curiosity, and so does a horrible groan from an equally green individual.

A dungeon.

Breaking in and tearing apart its spawner, he bats away its zombies and saves their fleshy remains for more desperate times. In its chests are scattered a few ingots of gold, a bucket, and a surprising amount of gunpowder—twenty four handfuls is quite a lot. It is, in fact, the maximum. Ditching the pumpkin seeds, and sadly, a music disc, he exits with some bread and tends to his lamb chops.

They don’t smell awful for a survivalist being hunted down.

He shoves everything into his inventory and builds up, more or less dissatisfied with his findings, but settles with the time he’s bought himself. His hearts regain as he chews savoringly on freshly charred meat, ungrateful that it has little flavor.

The sun hangs low in the sky, turning the horizon into a layer of clementine orange. Spruce twigs brush Dream’s face as he zig zags out of the forest and sees a shore, so likewise, he fills his bucket and makes a boat, travelling as far as he can away.

“Wait, George,” Bad says, “Aren’t you colorblind?”

“Yeah,” George answers, “What about it?”

“So, do you depend more on the texture to see than the color?”

“Generally, yeah.”

“So… couldn’t you have identified the concrete before we jumped?”

“Not.. really? Well, you jumped in and I assumed there was going to be water, so I thought we were going to be safe.”

“You act like he thinks before he acts, Bad,” Sapnap chimes in.

“You jumped in  _ after _ me,” George retorts, “And didn’t  _ you _ say there was water at the bottom?”

“Aw, you’re right. I’m sorry, George,” Bad says, “Here, I have food.”

“Thank you,” Sapnap and George reply smally.

Dream notes that he probably should take George’s colorblindness into account, but decides to leave it—after all, it won’t matter terribly too much. They all get fooled when least expected, Dream himself included.

The sea is silent, strangely accepting him with cold arms. After scanning and determining it safe from the hungry hands of the drowned, Dream hops off his boat to dive down for a shipwreck sitting in the gutters of gravel. He snakes around its intricate rib cage of decaying wood and its equally protective curtain of kelp to find himself pleased with a delightful pack of twelve iron ingots and four of gold—a gift for his dying patience. The emeralds remain in their place.

“Ugh, he has iron—he’s probably still in that ravine or something,” George comments.

Swimming back up to his boat, his lungs refill with the indication of the bubble column. He shakes off the excess water from his body like a dog, lamenting that he doesn't have the fur to keep himself warm.

Unusually, the ability to bark, out of all things, is present in him.

The water distorts his reflection, reminding him of the uncertainty of his fate, but he ignores it, letting the kelp sway the ocean to his favor. He has always been one to defy the odds, after all.

A chunk of sand pixelates at the very corner of his render distance, and so does a cactus. Dream lets his boat veer to it, finding potential in a desert. The clementine sky has now turned a very dark ash, scatters of stars watching him closely from many angles. He hopes they find him entertaining.

The boat slows to a soft landing on the shore, and he stops to make himself a shield, leggings, and a pair of boots. His eyes flicker around for sugar cane, finding a few stalks sitting near. He quickly retrieves it and moves on.

“Oh no,” Sapnap says, “Dream’s got armor.”

“We’ll be alright,” Bad comforts, “We have some iron in the furnaces.”

“Oh yeah.”

An [ _ Acquire Hardware _ ] appears in the chatbox to Sapnap’s name.

Dream, however, is indifferent, because the sky begs him to continue sealing his future. Itemizing back his materials, he lets the cool sand guide him. It is packed with the grumble of husks and the rattle of ribcages. A spider manages to bite him some, but crashes its face into his shield as he lands his final blow. The string he picks up is silky between his fingers.

Along his run through the mobbed desert, he collects bones and rotten flesh and more gunpowder. The string in his hands becomes a better bow than what the skeletons have given him so far and all he needs now is to grind for arrows.

“Oh what—where is he?” George says, “There’s nothing in this ravine.”

“He’s probably got everything by now,” Bad answers, “Look—the compass is pointing north, still.”

An uncertain hum from Sapnap, “Uh, guys. I think we need boats.”

“Ugh, what?” George complains, “I hate him.”

“Aw, George,” Bad teases, “We know you don’t really mean that.”

“Okay, whatever.”

Dream chuckles, a little nervously as the prickles of cacti wave him by with a small greeting from its dead bushes of whom he breaks on his wandering. A neat mound of sandstone appears in the distance that eventually reveals itself to be a desert temple, orange patterns designed intricately on its decorative pillars and all. Arriving there, he digs into its side, and the fancy floor greets him expectantly. He digs through to its room of treasures, careful not to set its pressure plate off.

The nine blocks of TNT are broken to store away and the chests open to uncover a plentiful amount of gunpowder and bones. His eyes skim over the enchanted books he knows he will not need, preferring to focus on grabbing the rest of the six ingots worth of gold. Disappointingly, only one ingot of iron can be detected under his fingers.

The sky becomes less dim upon his exit and Dream finds himself irritated by the desert’s unforgiving heat. The lack of creepers, too, are troublesome to him. It is not that he misses them, but more so that he needs their very reactive organs.

Morning brushes the shadows away, letting the rays of light slither over his skin. He turns his head to scan for pools of orange before the sun surpasses their brightness, but alas, it is too late. The sand guides him down a hill, stopping abruptly to grass and over a river. Running along the loose ground, he collects quite a bit of sugar cane.

Sapnap giggles, “Oh, Dream~ I bet you’re  _ so _ scared right now.”

Annoyingly, a [ _ Suit Up _ ] advancement allocated to BadBoyHalo’s name flashes green and obnoxious in Dream’s eyes.

“Eh,” Dream responds.

“Dream,” George says, getting the advancement next, “Can you stop with that?”

“Ehhhhh,” Dream continues.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t worry, George,” Bad veers his attention, “We’ll kill this muffin!”

“Ehhhhhhhhh,” Dream is just being stupid now.

He proceeds to the forest, finding that the rest of the desert proves fruitless in his journey—both literally and figuratively. Besides, he would be very easily spotted against the pale canvas, anyways. It would be a bad idea to stay.

Along his trip to the forest, he forms a flint and steel upon finding a pit of gravel, setting animals alight for their meat. It is not as much as he would prefer, but then again, to have the things he’d prefer would tip the game too much in his favor, and that is not exciting at all.

Grass opens up to stone and tunnels down into a supposedly deep cave, and Dream’s intuition is correct because it seems that its pathways stretch wider into an incomprehensible maze. Deciding to abandon the surface, he dives into the shadows to collect more iron of which its supply is forgiving.

He continues downwards, occasionally encountering the hiss of the creeper and the groan of the zombie, but ultimately reaching to where lava gurgles on its bubbles. His ear presses close to the wall, listening for a direction to follow. The tunnel guides him a little further downwards, and a menacingly bright pool sits waiting for him, anticipant. Setting down his furnaces, he waits for his half stack or so of iron to smelt, along with any food that he’s forgotten to cook.

“Ohh, wow,” he hears Bad say, “A desert temple.”

“Dream’s probably looted it already,” Sapnap analyzes.

“Yeah,” George answers, “He did. See? There’s a hole here.”

Dream grimaces in thought of his pursuiters coming near as he gathers cobblestone to heat into stone. Taking freshly smelted iron, his fingers run diligently on a newly made iron sword and an iron pickaxe.

“What? He’s not in here?” George says, “He only just now made an iron pick.”

“I don’t see him either,” Sapnap says, “Look, the compass is pointing east, now.”

Dream kicks up his pace around the vicinity, digging up granite and andesite. When he returns, he finds that his furnaces have softened their fires, indicating that his items have finished cooking. The newly cooked stone is used to seal a wall, isolating Dream from the rest of the cave, and patches of granite and andesite are used to decorate it some.

After crafting the rest of his set of armor, he throws everything into his inventory. The lava hisses at him as he carries on with forming the gate to the Nether, and upon finishing it, he spills water onto the rest of the pool in case he meets an inevitable trap when he exits. Light crawls off his face as the obsidian floor forms and the gurgle of lava quiets and brushes his ears in worry, though one would say it is a little too late for that.

“Oo, the compass turned!” Bad exclaims.

“He’s underground—look there’s a cave,” Sapnap says.

Flint and steel click, making a terrifying shriek as the sounds of rock scrape against each other. Sparks jump energetically before Dream’s eyes, but they are ultimately drowned out by the portal’s desperate cries. Stepping in with newly made golden boots, the cruel heat pummels his body, but the chorus of complaints is sweet to his ears.

“Ohh no, he’s in the Nether already,” grumbles Sapnap.

Dream giggles, “Better hurry up.”

Dream goes back to wishing the Nether wasn’t so hot, but his pleas prove futile in the grand scheme of his game of cat and mouse. He finds himself to be a poor vagabond to the netherrack’s unforgiving maze of dead lore, fiddling with the pickaxe in his hands.

“Hey, guys,” Bad says, “Shouldn’t we stay two blocks apart?”

“Why?” Sapnap responds.

“Well, it’s like social distancing right?”

“What good would that do?” George joins.

“So we don’t give each other poison, obviously,” Bad jokes.

George giggles dumbly, “I… don’t think that’s how it works, Bad.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just joking,” he says, “I won’t give you poison.”

Dream rolls his eyes at their playful chattering, a little disconnected on how different it is from him and George’s. However, he turns his attention back to the carmine fog just as quickly, the sounds of undead pigs forever snorting through their rotten noses and dragging their golden swords across the ground. On his way, he gathers what little gold they have, and carries on.

“Oh, Dream, like, covered up the lava for us,” George notes delightedly.

Dream pauses, “Wait, what?”

“Aw, thanks Dream,” Bad singsongs.

Dream continues walking, “What are you talking about?”

Then, all three of his hunters make the achievement into the Nether.

“What?! How’d you find it?”

“What do you mean? We just dug down,” George answers.

“Ugh. So annoying.”

Sapnap laughs, and the harmony of “Oh, Dream~”s ring in his ears, endearing and much to his chagrin.

Coming up on the top of a hill, Dream has no choice but to scale down. Soon, weeping vines cry their chimes and yearn that he’ll console them, but quickly lose the hopes of it. He passes them by without the bat of an eye, looking for piglins’ interest instead.

The jingle—though, not a Christmas one—of gold hitting the ground is followed by envious snorts as the crimson forests’ inhabitants turn their heads. As Dream waits for them to consider their value, he scans through the environment for a fortress. However, the only response is the creak of the stems, stretching and contorting themselves into its home of an obscene and scarlet ruin. He goes back to see a lack of luck from his barters, sorting away their plentiful, yet useless collection of leather and magma cream in favor of string, iron nuggets, and obsidian. A disappointed expression bores his face as he abandons the current need for—in his eyes—rigged economical exchange.

The Nether’s decay leads him to a chernobyl of basalt, its crackles of dry rock and squelches of magma cubes familiar to his ears, along with the distant sense of radiation richoteting against its wretched walls.

“Oh, hey it’s these guys,” Sapnap points out.

“Yeah, the idiots,” George giggles.

“Hey, don’t call them idiots,” Bad says, “Be nice to them, and they’ll trade with us.”

“That’s why they’re idiots—we have to be nice to trade with them,” Sapnap complains.

Hopping along its messy terrain, Dream encounters a ruined portal by the shore and eyes its crown of gold. A grimace sticks to his face when the hot blackstone blisters his feet as he skids down close enough to hear the crying obsidian’s tears. He opens the chest, though he doesn’t find much comfort in the handful of flints it has, and makes two tripwire hooks—one to trap the chest and one for a crossbow. He starts digging around, replacing the blocks underneath with a reasonable—namely, not  _ all _ —amount of TNT and sealing it away. The chunk gold above looks down on him, and he decides that, unfortunately, he will have to leave them up for bait. Satisfied with his work, the delta carries him off the portal’s path.

“Ugh, this one isn’t giving me anything,” George says, “So annoying.”

“Just be patient, you muff—Oh my God, what are these things!?” Bad shouts, clearly still a neophyte to their environment.

“What—the hoglins? They’re like… the Nether version of, like, pigs.”

“They do so much damage—why do they do so much damage?”

“I dunno, ask Mojang,” Sapnap says, “Here, place these things, they don’t like them.”

“Oh, thank you Sapnap.”

In the distance, Dream is relieved by the sight of dark towers attached partially to a wall of basalt, its bricks bleeding lava. A pleased sigh follows his gratitude, and so he continues to tower up.

“Hey, there’s a portal thingy here,” George says, and Dream smiles.

“Do you think Dream looted it?” Sapnap asks.

“No—look, the gold blocks are still there. He would’ve taken them.”

“Wait—you guys found a ruined portal?” Dream chimes in, just blocks away from reaching the fortress.

“There’s good stuff in these chests, let’s check it,” George says, “Sapnap, take the gold blocks.”

Dream holds his damn breath.

“Wait—what was that sou—Woah, what the muffin!?!?!?”

“What—Oh my God!” George gasps, who is likely closing the chest and being blown up by now, “No!!! What’s happening—Oh, I’m dead!”

A ramble from Sapnap, “I’m in the lava, I’m in the lava—quick, Bad, do you have a fire res potion? Oh my God.”

“Uhh! I do, I do,” Bad rushes, and Dream is disappointed, “Here, here, here, I threw it down.”

“Oh, no… I think all my stuff burned,” George laments, and Dream makes the most out of it.

“Ugh, the gold burned, too,” Sapnap says, “I didn’t get a chance to mine it,  _ George _ .”

“ _ Sorry _ , I didn’t know it was a  _ trap _ .”

Dream giggles.

“Ugh, listen to him all smug,” George spits enviously, “I hate him.”

“Aww, Georgie,” Dream feigns unhappiness, “Why would you say that?”

“You tried to blow us up!” Bad says, “But I guess I’ll be nice to you anyway, you…. thousand-IQ muffin.”

Dream nonchalantly crosses what constitutes as the border between the Nether fortress and the not-Nether-fortress, earning him an advancement.

“...Nevermind,” Bad responds to it, “It’ll be okay, George, just get back as soon as you can.”

“This is so annoying,” George says.

Turning his attention back to the fortress, Dream explores the corrupted Eden alone, especially attentive to the shuffle of wither skeletons—an anathema to his conscience. He runs an absentminded hand up his left arm, feeling the ghost of a sting. Shaking it off, the tiles under his feet ground him to the present and he perches himself atop the roof, looking for corridors to dig in.

Once at a corner, he digs down to greet a chest at his disposal, and upon opening it, he finds obsidian and a couple diamonds—enough for a sword. Likewise, he makes one.

“Oh my God—he got diamonds,” Sapnap observes.

He leaves the horse armor to stay, sprinting along the passage for more loot and killing the frequent skeleton. Meeting an abandoned farm of netherwart, he harvests the alien sprouts and continues up the stairs, finding a lava well. The breath of flames worshipping their ashes catches Dream’s attention, and continuing down the hall, he turns the corners to meet a spawner. He gets a rod on his first set of Blazes. An advancement pops up, but not for him.

“What—?! You found the fortress already??” Dream says.

Giggles from Bad and Sapnap, “Oh, Dream~”

Dream rolls his eyes, “Oh my God…”

He sets his crafting table down. Sugar cane becomes paper. Bones become bone meal and into white dye. 

Two Blazes die for one rod.

Gunpowder and white dye become firework stars, and seven firework stars, combined with paper and another handful of gunpowder, become three very powerful fireworks. His hands work diligently to make a few more sets.

Three Blazes die for two rods.

“Ooh, he’s found a spawner,” Bad says.

Dream wipes the soot off of his sword after killing another one, “I mean… not  _ necessarily _ .”

“Sure, you have!”

Dream turns around, alerted by sickening footsteps, and gasps.

“He’s here—he’s here!” Sapnap calls.

“Oh, he’s so dead!” Bad grins.

“No!” Dream shouts, feeling metal bite into his flesh, “Oh my God—leave me alone! Leave me alone!!”

“Hello, good sir,” Bad sings.

They trade swipes, but Sapnap burns his feet with a bucket of lava, and Dream staggers away as fire travels up his veins.

“Nononono—!”

Downing a chunk of steak, Dream switches his shield with fireworks and his main hand with a crossbow. The sting of flames stutters his hands, but he grits his teeth and loads it, managing to land a square hit on BadBoyHalo’s head. In a brilliant, shimmering, and white explosion, he goes off with a bang.

“Oh, what!?! What the muffin!?” Bad shouts, bewildered, “What was that!?”

“What!? Bad? How’d you die?” Sapnap says.

“I… I don’t know!? I had six hearts!”

“How did you lose all six hearts!?”

Dream flits away, praying to the God that he doesn’t believe in that the detonation is bright enough to cover his lime green. His head whirrs with desperate pleas under his breath that the fire stops.

“Oh my God—where’d he go?” Sapnap says.

“You  _ lost _ him??” Bad says.

“I’m—” Sapnap laughs nervously, “I’m outta here.”

“Alright, come back. George has stuff.”

The fire stops, right down to one heart, and Dream lets out the exhale of his life after he sinks his teeth into another chunk of meat. Feeling his wounds stitch themselves together, he surveys the walls for Sapnap’s name.

“Oh, Sapnap~” he sings, creeping around the blackstone walls, “Where’d you go?”

“Dream—please—my buddy? Pal?”

“Come out to play, Sapnap,” Dream loads another firework rocket, “Come out to play!!!!”

“Leave me alone, you freak!”

“Sapnap, please don’t die,” George says.

“I’m trying! Oh my God—”

Dream turns another corner and Sapnap has reached the end of a bridge, greeting a deafening drop to a dreadful lava lake. Pointing the crossbow, Sapnap turns around to meet Dream’s sickening grin.

“Uhh.. hi?” he says tinily.

In a fantastic caterwaul, sparks fly at Sapnap’s feet, disorienting him, and out of the brightness, he meets his own reflection in Dream’s diamond sword.

“Wha—NO!”

A sharp clang against a shield saves his heart from being pierced, and so the dance of blades begins.

“C’mon, Dream—we can talk about this, Dream—please?”

Dream only smiles lovingly, pulling out an axe, “That’s what everyone says.”

Sapnap staggers back as it hits his shield, and a second swing just barely misses his head, digging itself into the ground. Unable to block, he scrambles away as Dream struggles to heave the axe back up.

“Come back here!” Dream roars, pulling at another rocket into his crossbow.

They dash around corners, Sapnap grasping at the walls for support and desperately wolfing down his bread.

“C’mon, eat,  _ eat _ ,” he shouts at himself.

At the turn of the wrist, another firework rips the air and the cruel bursts of illumination send Sapnap off with a bang and loud are the simultaneous wails of loss from the hunters just as Dream celebrates his triumph that is just as equally, if not more, ear-piercing. He collapses on the ground.

“Oh my God—that fight was—” He starts to laugh, “fun.”

Sapnap lets out an annoyed breath, “Shut up.”

After foraging their food and burning the rest of their items, Dream switches to his shield again. He passes wither skeletons on his way back to the spawner, blocking them off and sweeping their legs for the collection of bones to fall over. Sorting his inventory, he fiddles with the Blaze rods in his hands—there are only three of them. Upon his return to the room, he finds that the tiny cage is gone and he resists the urge to punch the wall beside him

“You broke the spawner!?” he says.

Bad chuckles, “No, what are you talking about?”

Dream rolls his eyes, “Ugh, of course you would.”

Running down the hall, he gets another rod from a stray. That’s four.

“Sapnap… what’re you doing,” George says, “Just mine the block.”

Sapnap giggles, “What do you mean? I am.”

“Wh—no you aren’t?”

“What?” Bad says, “What’s going on between you two?”

“Look, listen—he’s like mining the block and then stopping right before it breaks and then mining it again,” George says, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah, but I’m mining it, aren’t I?” Sapnap reasons.

“This is so...” George giggles along, “Ok, whatever. Here’s food.”

“Wow, George. So generous.”

Dream cannot help but smile at their stupid banter, noting once again how different it is from him and George’s alone

He finds a balcony and jumps down onto the roof of the fortress’s other half, crossing paths with a cacophony of wheezes from two more Blazes. They die in love, but Dream does not get any rods in return. A little hint in him suggests it is karma and he agrees.

Two fireballs just barely catch his ear, and he shuffles around to block the third. Another Blaze floats around the alleyway, and it meets Dream’s blade three times before meeting its fate. Receiving a rod, he supposes that is karma for his patience, too.

That is five Blaze rods.

“Oh yeah, Dream,” Bad says, “What did you shoot me with? What  _ was _ that?”

“I don’t know what that was but it did  _ so _ much damage—I had like four hearts,” Sapnap adds on.

“It was a…” Dream drawls, killing for his sixth rod, “Firework.”

“A  _ firework _ !?” Bad exclaims, “You can  _ do _ that?”

Dream hears more breathing and digs down to greet three Blazes, two of whom drop their rods upon death. That is seven rods, now, but not nearly enough.

“That would’ve been so much gunpowder—what? Where’d you even get that much?” Sapnap says.

Quite frankly, Dream is a little too focused on their game of cat and mouse, or rather, three cats and one clever mouse, to respond back. Sprinting up stairs, he finds four Blazes simmering in their ennui of fire. Thankfully, their drop rate is merciful, and Dream flees the fortress with nine rods in total. It should be plenty.

“Got lucky,” he eventually answers.

“Ugh, of course you did,” says George, “Oh, oops.”

Dream wonders what George said that for, but finds out as he reacts with, “What? ‘Who’s Cutting the Onions?’? That’s crying obsidian.”

“Oh my God, George,” Sapnap sighs.

“Uhhh… no it isn’t,” George lies.

“You’re in the Nether, aren’t you?”

A pause.

And then, an eventual response, “No <3.”

“Wh—” Dream loses his words in bewilderment, “How’d you even say that?”

“Uhhhh… less than three?”

“You’re—,” Dream rolls his eyes, “You’re such an idiot.”

George giggles, revealing his lies.

Dream feels the familiar rustle of nylium under his feet, exhaling a hot breath as he finds himself in the red body of a crimson forest. The deep rumble of hoglins snorting their hostility weaves through the stems and he finds himself hurrying up a hill.

“Hey, I just thought of something,” Bad says.

“What?” says Sapnap.

“You know how when you first sleep, you get the ‘Sweet Dreams’ advancement?”

“Yeah?”

“So when Dream gets the advancement, it says ‘Dream has made the advancement [Sweet Dreams],’ right?”

“Mhm.”

“I think it should be ‘nightmare’ instead.”

Dream interrupts, “What, like ‘Sweet Nightmares?’ Nobody says that.”

Bad laughs, “Yeah, but like, only for you.”

“So Mojang is gonna program the game so that I,  _ specifically _ , will get ‘Sweet Nightmares’?”

“I think you deserve it,” George giggles.

“What—?” Dream sasses, “That’s so dumb.”

“Well, you can make it a language setting,” Bad reasons.

“What? ‘Dream’ language?” Dream says.

“Yeah!” Bad says.

George lets out a guffaw, “And every other word being ‘pissbaby.’”

Dream can’t help but laugh, “That’s even dumber.”

“It’s accurate, though,” a smile sounds through George’s voice.

“You’re literally stupid,” Dream deadpans.

As they chuckle at their own jokes, Dream’s eyes are met with the large, cumbersome body of a bastion, its cracks exquisitely embroidered with gold and lore that he does not plan on dissecting. Upon closer inspection, he finds that it is a housing unit type of bastion. Not exactly the structure he would prefer.

Then again, if it were as much as he’d prefer, he’d have Midas’s touch by now.

Blackstone crumbles at his step, and the grunts from indifferent snouts indicate his safe passing. Swords drag on the ground from sharply dressed pigs, reminding Dream of his fellow friend, Techno, though he would never dull his blade from a careless wield.

“Augh, what?” George says, “He’s in a bastion.”

“Is that what that advancement is?” Bad says.

“I think so. Hope he gets destroyed,” George sneers.

“He has gold boots,” Sapnap says, “So maybe not.”

“Well, knowing him, he’d probably hit a piglin for the fun of it.”

“True.”

Soon, he finds the apple of their corrupted Eden, but instead of figuratively taking the apple and sinking his teeth into the savory sweet, he sets a block of dynamite in the middle of the two double chests. A plank of wood—whatever kind it is—turns into a button, and it sits comfortably on the red and white stripes. With a simple push, it hisses with a flash, and Dream takes cover before it explodes with a brilliant rumble. Hot wisps fly past Dream’s nose and occasionally sears holes in his skin. Shaking it off, he turns to the mess as it reveals the grand treasure of an enchanted crossbow, bones blocks, arrows, obsidian, and chunks of gold. The mysterious glow radiating from the ranged weapon reads ‘multishot’ and he smiles with a malicious grin.

Blocks of gold turn into ingots, and so do their nugget forms. It’s a lot of fucking gold. He drops it on the ground and the piglins around him perk their heads in an envious interest. Now, it is just the lucky waiting game.

“So,” Dream starts innocently, “How are  _ you _ guys doing?”

“Great, actually,” George says, and Dream cannot tell if it is a truth or a lie.

The piglins drop gravel and he sorts it for flint. Suddenly, the [Diamonds!] advancement shines arrogantly in the corner of his eye.

“A diamond, huh?” Dream says.

“Yeah, Dream,” Sapnap howls, “Bet you’re quaking in your boots right now.”

“Yeah, I’m shivering my timbers,” Dream sasses back.

“Ok, shut up.”

Dream laughs. His wait has finished. The piglins have devoured all his gold with their hungry hands or paws or whatever they use to hold things. A very beautiful three-fourths stack of pearls lay on the ground, waiting to be picked up, though one should note a stack only consists of sixteen, and thus he has twelve. Regardless, they would still make for a wonderful necklace if they were to be combined with the common string lying elsewhere.

Not that Dream would wear it.

He sweeps up the collection of obsidian and finds that he has just the right amount for another portal. Along with a fire resistance potion for safety and a pack of soulsand, the rumble of blackstone is hot on his feet as he scales down to the netherwart farm in the housing unit. After sorting out his inventory, he pulls out his ten chunks of obsidian and a new portal is shittily shaped in the depths of the piglins’ society. A saccharine smile carves itself into his face, much more dangerous than the one he is known for, and with a last firecharge, the gate of violet howls its distress.

With a burst of a cool breeze, Dream sighs, satisfied at the temperature. He looks around and finds that his platform is suspended over the ocean. He is no longer satisfied, but he’ll take what he can get.

The worst it could do was link up to his previous portal.

Pulling out a boat, Dream is careful not to get kicked by the server for flying as he dives off the obsidian. The sea is frigid cold, and so is its chorus line of corpses with their gurgling, prismarine eyes that know much more than they bargained for.

“Wait a minute… it says ‘no player to track,’ did he leave the Nether?” Bad comments.

Dream holds in a devious chuckle, combing his pearls with his powder.

“It was still pointing that way like a second ago, though,” Sapnap says, “And he was in a bastion.”

“Oh my God—Oh no, I think it’s in here,” George says.

“What is?” Sapnap replies.

“It’s in the bastion.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope—it’s in here. I hear it.”

“I hate him.”

“It’s fine, guys, it’s fine,” Bad reassures, “We have some gold.”

“He probably looted everything in here,” Sapnap says.

The eye of ender stares up from Dream’s palm, blinking ominously with its pupil sliced down the center. When tossed up, it dilates before floating northeast, and eerily calm is the swish of the paddle through the water as he continues in its direction.

“Dre—Sapnap, woah, look at that. That’s epic,” George says.

“Did you just almost call me ‘Dream’?”

“No.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, your ears are just worse than my eyes.”

“You just miss Dream  _ so much _ don’t you.”

“He’s literally right here in this call—I don’t  _ miss _ him. Dream. Say something.”

Dream says nothing.

“You’re so annoying.”

Dream laughs, diving down to collect a handful of kelp. Bobbing his head up the surface, he finds the eye follows the same path to a shore extending to a plains biome and a dark forest. A flock of chickens waddle in their peaceful ways with the uncaring scatter of creepers reminding him that he should get more gunpowder and feathers. He sprints to the collection of trees to collect more wood.

“Ooh—I see him! He’s right there!” Sapnap shouts, “Go, go, go!”

“Oh, hello, good sir,” Bad taunts.

And for some reason, Dream’s heart spikes and he snaps his head around to scan the flat of grass. Nothing.

“We got you, didn’t we?” Bad says.

“No, you guys are terrible liars.”

“Nahh, you’re lying, we totally got you,” a smug grin is prominent in Sapnap’s voice.

“Ha,” Dream rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

That is, until a sickly blade digs its tip into his back, interrupting the sticks on his crafting table. Swivelling his body, it is revealed that Sapnap’s face follows the smell of blood.

“What!?”

“Oh, Dream~ who’s the liar, now, huh?”

Then, George and Bad appear at his sides with the sound of teleportation, slashing their swords just as menacingly and knocking his health down to half.

“Where did you—,” Dream turns to run, “ FDSAJCJMSKLK, Oooh my God!!”

“Get him, get him, get him!” Sapnap yells, “He’s running away.”

Dream talks over his steak, “Leave me alone!”

Another hit from George, “Oh Dream~ how is he not dead yet?”

Taking a risk, Dream splays enderpearls between his fingers, throwing one far over the dark forest’s sea of leaves. The sharp click of his crossbows reloading registers in his hands.

“He pearled!” Bad calls, “Careful, careful, he has his crossbow—hold your shields up.”

Their heads poke up from the veins of branches, slowly sneaking towards him. Then, George and Sapnap unblock their shields to run at him from the sides. Switching to his multishot crossbow, the sound of fireworks cry in his ears before crashing on the trees.

“Oh—what!? There’s three of them?!” George screams.

“Hwoah, my God,” Sapnap gasps, “That almost hit me.”

Through the dense brightness, Bad pummels straight to him and Dream points his unenchanted crossbow to hit him square in the chest with another firework.

“What the muffin—you have two!?”

Dream swaps for his shield and his sword, chasing Bad down.

“C’mere, Bad!”

Until he is interrupted by George knocking him off his pursuit and he’s forced to take a bite out of another chunk of steak.

“Get off of him!” George yells.

“No!! Ugh,” laments Dream.

They circle around, Sapnap joining their pursuit and Dream pulls his jaw so tight it might break his teeth. Jumping back to the plains biome, he clutches his flint and steel. A pantomime of creepers silently gossip in the distance. Three clicks paired with three flashy hisses nearly blinds him.

“Oh, no—nonono—,” an amalgamation of gasps coming from three hunters are followed by three lustrous explosions.

“I’m low—I’m low!” one of them says.

“That did so much damage.”

And so quick is the manner in which Dream pulls out his sword and turns right back around.

“He’s coming, he’s coming, runrunrunrun—” a slurry of panic.

“Come here!” bellows the prey with his saccharine grin, “Come out to play!”

Dream bounds for Sapnap, the closest of the hunters, and cuts him off from the rest.

“Dream? Please? Please, don't kill me—we’re buddies,” Sapnap fruitlessly begs.

But Dream is not one to give mercy and ends their child’s play with a quick swipe under his feet. Sapnap falls to the ground and satisfying is the manner in which his body pixelates away.

“No!!!” he shouts.

“Sapnap!” his fellow hunters voice their concerns.

Dream snaps his head around to face them, nonchalantly twirling the hilt with the turn of his wrist. Bad and George flinch at his mere, animalistic expression. It is the result of a lesson learned repeatedly.

“What are you waiting for?” Dream howls, “C’mere!”

But without giving them another thought, he sprints towards them with a wild tint to his eyes and they meet their reflection in his diamond sword very soon, but one they both block with their shields. One slash from George rounds to his back and he scowls at the sting, turning around to satisfy the trade of pain, or perhaps even twice its intention.

“C’mon, you guys can take him on!” Sapnap encourages.

A distinct gasp from George indicates the number of his hearts, but before Dream can swing a final blow, a determined blade from Bad slices into his side.

“Ugh, you guys are so annoying,” Dream mutters.

“Get him, get him! He’s low—I know he is,” George grins.

His feet pivot on the luscious grass and his teeth grind on flavorless meat. Grabbing blocks, he sprints away and towers up to a temporary refuge.

“No! George, do you have a bow?”

“I don’t.”

Bad hums a slight frustration and Dream swaps out for his crossbows and fireworks. Two gasps follow two poor, sorry hunters.

“Oh, no, we’re dead,” George says.

“Just dodge and weave, dodge and weave.”

With his multishot crossbow, three fantastic explosions of sparks hit the ground.

“Wh—” George says, “What’s going on? There’s so many particles, I can’t see!”

Dream softens his fall to the grass with water and points his firework right at George’s face. A simple click is all it takes to send his head reeling back and his life going off with a bang.

“No!”

“George!” Bad and Sapnap shout.

“Bad, you can’t die—don’t even fight him, just run,” Sapnap says.

“Okay, okay—I’m running, I’m running,” Bad’s voice sounds jumpy, “Dream—please don’t kill me. We can talk about this.”

Dream does not bother talking. Instead, he laughs in his triumph and loses all his opponent’s items to fire, though saving a set of armor to fix his own.

“This muffin is laughing at me. That is so rude, Dream.”

Dream still does not say anything, preferring to load his crossbow with a normal arrow and shoot him instead. The echoes of morning sunlight shine behind him. If one were BadBoyHalo, they would be very impressed on how he stands his ground in the face of a sickly silhouette.

“Ow—you’re extra rude today, Dream!”

“That’s it. I’m making a diss track,” Sapnap says.

“Have fun with that,” Dream replies.

“Let’s hear it,” George encourages.

Dream scoffs, continuing in the path of the eye.

“Alright, Dream,” Sapnap begins, “Always braggin’ about your IQ, never met someone like you, sorting tensions through your mentions—the guy you always hang out in detention. People callin’ you pissbaby, better put ‘em on a list, baby. Got a face so tacky—you offend one, here come his lackeys. Your merch has no taste, all your fans threw their money to waste.”

“Oh wow, you’re actually on fire, Sapnap,” George laughs.

“What? No, he isn’t,” Bad says.

“We know that you make bank, and you think it’s pretty dank. But deep inside, you use it to flex your Hypixel Youtube Rank.”

“Sapnap, oh my goodness.”

“Speedrunning fame, beggin’ people to subscribe, but they find out all men do is eat hot chip and lie.”

Dream only replies with a chuckle, “So dumb…”

“Admit it, Dream, you can’t beat that.”

“Listen, you probably thought of that beforehand—there’s no way you just came up with that on the fly.”

“Well, now you don’t have anything to rap back.”

Dream hums, “That is true.”

He hears Sapnap laugh away in arrogance as he takes a moment to craft more arrows.

The terrain turns warmer, both temperature-wise and color-wise. Acacia trees sit quietly on their trunks, not a breeze disturbing them as they watch Dream’s game of cat and mouse. The sun is high in the sky now, irritating both his own eyes as well as the ender’s.

Snaking through the grass, he chucks one up once again. It remains in its direction to the north and breaks, though he notes its trail is closer to the ground. Sand appears before his feet and the prickle of cactuses makes his skin squirm. Dead bushes humble themselves to sticks on his way.

“Okay, here we go, here we go,” Sapnap starts again, “They call you Minecraft God, but you’re just stuck in a facade. Can’t even get Twitch Partner to save all your vods—green bastard, white blob. You see yourself on the run, ‘cause you think it’s fun—this obsession with being number one. You’re on that social climb, too impatient to wait in line. Next thing you know, everyone’s huntin’ for that coward made of lime.”

“Sapnap, you muffinhead,” Bad scolds.

Dream rolls his eyes. Eventually, he gets to a point where the eye flies south, and using the triangulation method, he stops by the shore of a river to dig down. The cold rigidness of stone bricks greet his arrival.

“Oh, you’re joking,” George comments on the advancement.

“Kay, we’re gonna have to go with plan ‘B-point-five’,” Sapnap admits.

Dream huffs in amusement, “‘ _ B-point-five _ ??’”

“What’s wrong with it?” Bad asks.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s right because we’re gonna kill you.”

Weaving through the stronghold’s maze, there is not much in finding the portal room. The growth of moss mocks Dream’s every step, and the squeak of bats cackle at his attempts to search. Suddenly, a particularly alarming advancement allocated to George strikes his concern.

“You’re  _ brewing _ ?” Dream points out.

“Better prepare, Dream,” Sapnap laughs.

“Sapnap, he’s going to actually prepare something,” George sasses.

“Pshhh, we’ll be fine,” Sapnap dismisses.

And right George is, because Dream travels under an archway and blocks off the hall in front of it. Digging a single-block column up, he makes a small room above and puts his water in the hole. It flows down, blocked only by the iron door’s air bubble. Then, he dives right back down to place kelp to bonemeal and the flow of water calms to its source block state. He mines another block beneath the water to place soulsand, making the kelp break, and the string of their breaths travel upwards.

A water elevator.

Exiting the trap, the sound of the iron door snaps behind him and he continues through the stronghold’s collection of pathways. A few turns and the bubble of lava makes him shift his head to the left. There, he finds light shining through a mouth of iron bars—it is undoubtedly the portal room, but he doesn’t bother taking another second to look.

“Oo, guys, I found something!” Bad says, “Quick, place beds.”

Then, three [Eye Spy] advancements shine in the corner of Dream’s eyes. Just in time.

“Oh, come on,” he feigns complaint.

He travels back after blocking away the portal room with stone brick, pacing around for their names to appear through the stone. Trinitrotoluene(TNT) sits readily in his hotbar and he waits aside a corner.

“Okay, it says he’s this way,” mumbles Bad.

Their names bob through the walls, then disappear as they approach close. When they reveal themselves, Dream jumps at them with a terrifying sword.

A gasp from George, but only George, “Wh—Oh my God! He’s here—he’s right here.”

Then, a splash of...  _ something _ makes his arms reconsider their determination. He checks his status.

_ Weakness. _

“You—I can’t do any damage at all!” Dream yells.

Both Sapnap and Bad’s names reappear, and soon do their bodies and their swords. A sickening slice meets Dream’s face, and another goes to his shield, but only for just a few seconds. He weaves away, receiving more cuts to his back as punishment.

“JFDLASFJDSLA!?” Dream shouts.

“He’s getting away!” George calls, “Go get him!”

Opening the door, Dream lets the soulsand’s water lift him up, and upon looking down, he sees all his friends’ faces below him before blocking them away with cobble.

“What is this!?” Bad says, “Who has a pickaxe?”

“I do, but I can’t mine! Your heads are so big—get out of the way!” George responds.

“We can’t! It’s a water elevator; we can’t swim down,” Sapnap says.

Dream climbs out of the water and spams his dynamite into the hole, letting it flash and hiss with the sound of flint.

A gasp from Sapnap, “I hear TNT—oh no—”

It has become clear that it is too late for them to do anything. From behind a shield, Dream watches as a Godly explosion kills his friends.

_ Almost _ , that is.

The muscles in his arms shake as he pulls out his crossbow once again and unsure fingers pull against the arrow to click it in place. George, the lone survivor, scrambles back from the debris with a nervous smile.

“He’s after me—” he trips on the water slightly, “Oh my God—Dream, c’mon. You don’t have to kill me, give me a second chance, okay?”

Except Dream can’t numb his pleas. He finds himself lowering the crossbow just slightly in their tenebrous tension. His arms falter. Palms sweaty and knees weak, if you will. However, George turns to flee and it ticks him off a fucking lot, so with a simple snap, the arrow digs into his hunter’s back.

“No!” Three voices go.

“George!!” Two voices go.

“We are so muffined.” One voice goes.

Followed by a cocky laugh of which belongs to none of them. Dream trots happily to retrieve his water and resume his run. His strength has revived and so has his mood. Once at the portal room, the lava quiets with a hiss, but the frames are not yet satisfied with the eleven out of twelve eyes filled.

He supposes his bets were out of his favor, but that is the one fun in gambling his chances.

Scampering around, Dream listens closely for the sound of a familiar croak—the creature with silk touch hands and a not-so-silk-touch punch. Nothing comes to his ears, much like the silence from his three hunters. A second attentive swerve of the head alerts him to the sound of teleportation and the pretty glitter of purple. The simple swipes of his sword brings him nothing but a regular piece of stone and a few hearts down.

He marks the location of the portal room down, though it really might not do much. Nonetheless, he ventures away in search of a single pearl and ends up delving into a cave on the side. Strangely, he meets the library with an enderman browsing the books.

What a nice life it would have if Dream were not to interrupt their world.

Receiving a pearl soundly, he runs back to the frame of eyes and the howl of an exhaustive journey rumbles loud in everyone’s ears. The hiss of miscellaneous items burning frees his inventory. 

“Oh no,” Sapnap says, to which Dream chuckles at.

The void consumes his body and presents him with an obsidian floor cold on his feet. A cage of endstone surrounds him, smelling sweetly icy in their facade of oblivion. Through the ground, Dream hears the dragon roar impatiently, and so he digs up.

Then suddenly, yet another [Local Brewery] advancement allocated to BadBoyHalo pops up in the chat, taking Dream quite aback.

“What?” Dream’s eyebrows quirk in question, “Another one?”

“Uhh.. uh oh,” is all Bad can say.

Dream is quick to mine out of his pale and sickly confines, shielding himself away from the splash of purple toxin. With a couple pulls of the trigger, his crossbow easily takes out two end crystals. The last of his wood is left to smelt the sand that he’s collected from digging down in a furnace. When they’ve lost their fire, he stores his water in the ground, takes out his crafting table, makes a set of glass bottles, and a brewing stand. An empty bottle becomes filled with dragon fire and two become filled with water.

“What? ‘You Need a Mint’? What’s that?” Bad pauses, “Dragon Breath?!”

Netherwart and a spider’s eye and gunpowder make a splash potion of poison just so luckily. An end crystal explodes from a single shot as he waits, and the final ingredient is the End’s violet venom.

A lingering potion of poison.

“Oh no, I know what he’s doing,” George says, “Make a few buckets.”

Dream sighs internally, grunting as he refocuses his aim at the top of the towering pillars and missing. The ruler of their corrupted Eden once again hisses her flames and he feels the toxicity travel up his skin. Gritting his teeth at the pain, he escapes the cloud of lavender miasma with a held breath.

And of course, he snaps his head to the obsidian platform because his hunters have re-entered their game of cat and mouse. The potions sit readily in his hand as he sprints to dig a hole into the ground and drop it in.

“Wha— guys don’t go in, there’s poison,” Sapnap says.

Upon checking the list of advancements again, Dream finds he is the only hunter that has arrived. Sapnap blocks off the hole he’s made and Dream hears him drink milk.

He laughs at the thought of Sapnap probably wishing it were melon milk, but returns his attention to finding his name. However, nothing can be found beneath his feet and he is forced to listen for the beat of a pickaxe.

Dream grunts dramatically, “Where’d you go!?”

“Nothing! Nowhere! You’re not gonna find me!” Sapnap calls back.

A sword at Dream’s back makes him flinch at his helmet break and swing his blade to return the gesture. The shriek of another potion, though this time from Sapnap, crashing on the ground makes his hand wobble in fragility and he turns to run. Bad then enters the playing field.

“Leave me alone!” Dream yells, “Get away from me!”

“C’mere, Dreamie-poo,” Sapnap shouts, “Get over here! Bad, boost me!”

“I’m boosting you, I’m boosting you!”

And endermen stare at their game as they dance with their swords and strange concoctions—human like, yet also not. Three more end crystals explode by Dream’s hand before being hit and the run continues with the last of his mutton.

“C’mon, get him, get this muffin!”

Dream throws his last potion up into the air and hears a gasp behind him.

“Oh no—Bad, watch out! He has another one—he got me, he got me.”

A frustrated grunt from Bad, “Augh, I got poisoned.”

A crossbow clicks in Dream’s hands, and Sapnap meets his last of his fate with an arrow.

“No!”

“I got your stuff, Sapnap, I got your stuff,” Bad reassures.

However, the poison has done too much at this point, and Bad’s death follows Sapnap’s with the fire of his last few arrows.

“No—!”

“Bad, no!”

Dream sprints desperately for their fallen items, only to be caught off guard by George making the [ _T_ _ake Aim_ ] advancement. The familiar “Oh, Dream~” silences everything else. Not even the dragon’s roar is loud enough to interrupt their tension. The stretch of the crossbow reloading another arrow is not quick enough and George lands a gruesome, loving cut across Dream’s face.

He would do the same if he were not weak, and it still applies as George manages to pin him to the ground.

“George, lemme go—George, please?”

“Why, how the turn tables, Dream,” a sword becomes intimately pointed right at his neck.

“Shut up, George—let me go. C’mon, you know you can do that, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Please?” His hands sting as they uselessly hold off the blade from sinking into his flesh, “I’ll tell you I love you?”

George laughs and shakes his head, quite honestly a little nostalgic and a little disappointed. A tear of blood trickles down the sword and onto Dream’s skin, the tangy smell lining his sinuses. The endermen have quieted their croaking, only watching in in a deafening stillness and so has their queen.

Dream feels pain for the very last time.

**Author's Note:**

> once again, SAPPY NAPPY APPRECIATE THE RAP BATTLE I GAVE YOU. IT'S FREE. USE IT. dream you better watch out for these STRATS k?? i better start seeing the dream kinnie in me become real /j


End file.
